


Sweaty Palms and Fluttering Hearts

by TheEarlyKat



Series: Warden Leverette [8]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, Asexual Character, M/M, Zev knows something's up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-24 22:18:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6168778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEarlyKat/pseuds/TheEarlyKat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Zevran had acted so since their first meeting. He would flirt, he would move to touch, then he would stop, hesitate, sometimes continue with more thought to the action and sometimes drop it altogether. The elf was beautiful, all bronze skin and flashing eyes more brilliant than the daggers he wielded as confidently as he walked. He wanted to trace the tattoos framing his cheek and find the others Zevran so boasted about. He wanted to know what Antiva was like. He wanted…</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweaty Palms and Fluttering Hearts

Lothering was too close to the Brecilian Forest for his liking. Anywhere in Fereldan was too close to it for his liking, Leverette mused. Outside, just above the map Alistair held high for all of them to see and plan their entry to the Dalish camp soon, he could see the muted shapes of softwoods spreading their leaves across paths he didn't need to see to remember. And along one of them was a husk of a cottage and a ghost of a life. 

Leverette muttered against the rim of his mug and pulled it back with a wrinkle of his nose when the ale bubbled and splashed across his lip. A hand covered his and slowly guided it to the tabletop. 

"This pitiful drink is too expensive to spill," Zevran complained, and he pat Leverette's hand once before removing it. "Although it may be good for things more different than drinking." He stretched another hand out and hesitated, eyes suddenly flashing to meet his and Leverette was startled by the sudden stare, but his features smoothed when the elf passed a thumb across his lip to wipe off the remaining foam. 

The slight curve of his mouth tipped further downward. Zevran had acted so since their first meeting. He would flirt, he would move to touch, then he would stop, hesitate, sometimes continue with more thought to the action and sometimes drop it altogether. The elf was beautiful, all bronze skin and flashing eyes more brilliant than the daggers he wielded as confidently as he walked. He wanted to trace the tattoos framing his cheek and find the others Zevran so boasted about. He wanted to know what Antiva was like. He wanted...

Was it because he was a mage? Close to the forest, to the cottage he called home for years, he couldn't help but wonder. It was a miracle that he had friends at all, being what he was. He'd killed, he'd harmed, he'd tortured just be existing. And he was doing it again - making the lives of those around him miserable until they could only fear him. He was a mage, a monster, and it was no wonder Zevran had no desire to touch him. The templars had been right - the Circle had been right - he -

The hand was back to covering the top of the mug and Leverette loosened his grip when the heat finally registered. The bubbling from inside was nearly hidden by the shouts and thuds of the tavern around them, but Zevran hid the boiling ale nonetheless while Levy cradled his hand to his chest. 

"I am not trying Leliana's scowl if we are to waste another copper on this," Zevran said, and Leverette was squeezing between packed bodies of the crowd to the door before Zevran finished tossing the coins down. "Antiva has much better drink - wine - ale is much to savage, yes?" He spat just outside the threshold and moved to walk by Levy's side. "The taverns there are bright, not dark like some basement kennel with the dogs. I suppose it makes the Fereldan's feel at home, but, ah, without the painted glass to let the last of the sunset in and light up the hair of the pretty men and women."

Leverette kept his eyes on the hard-beated road, telling himself it was to keep from wedging a foot in a rut and looking for the fool, but his gaze routinely flickered to watch the pass of Zevran's arm while it swung at his side. The slight sway of his hips, intentional as ever, kept it from brushing against his though any other normal walk would have their elbows bumping. Leverette dug his fingers into the fabric of his robes before remembering the ale and reluctantly letting go. 

"You are still thinking, dear Warden. Rude for someone talking so eloquently of one's homeland."

"I'm sorry." There was a catch in his throat and a stutter in Zevran's walk. 

The elf waved off the comment with a lazy roll of his wrist. "I am sorry this is all you have known for pleasure."

"I've...never been to a tavern before." When Zevran made no sound he continued. "I wasn't old enough and my father never drank. The Circle won't allow anything that inebriates the mind. I...I could have set it afire. I could have set you on fire."

Zevran scoffed. "You held a mug too tightly and frowned much too deeply. That is all I saw - that is more than anyone else would see if they were looking. A frown is not known to set a healthy man on fire."

That raised his eyebrows. "You weren't..." Levy licked his lip while searching for a word ,"uneasy?"

"Being around someone like yourself makes me more than uneasy."

"Why do you do that?" The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. The surprise at Zevran's admittance still had him reeling; that someone could choose to be with him without circumstantial force or fear was a concept he hadn't thought about in a decade. The flush at the embarrassed question ran hotter when Zevran cleared his throat. 

"Well, you see, amigo, when one man, who happens to like men - or women, do not get my wrong here - finds an attractive man, the hands get sweaty and the stomach gets fluttering. It is uneasy, yes? And also quiet pleasant."

Leverette stumbled and swore when his hands grasped blindly for a stave that was hidden back at the inn to balance him and wiped at his face when Zevran chuckled after he regained his balance. "That. Why do you do that." Zevran raised a brow and he sighed. "You...make a comment, like so, and then...avoid me. Every time you begin to reach out you stop and..." He made a strangled sound in the back of his throat. 

The assassin didn't answer, instead letting their footsteps echoing through the twists and turns of Denerim's streets fill the silence. The inn wasn't much further and he paused around the final corner. "I have found you have an...aversion, is the only way I can put it. From the first day I encountered you and attempted to charm you you were more than simply flustered. I did not know what that meant, to you, but you did not say to stop. I cannot say I have the will to stop, but I will not go further if that is what makes you comfortable. We are not together for some simple reason, after all, and saving the world allows for no complications."

Levy swallowed and dropped his gaze. "That being said," he continued, "if you would like to clear this air between us?"

"It's not an aversion, per say. I'm not averse to," he gestured to the elf after a moment of floundering. "The comments are..." He shook his head, again at a loss. "I've heard nothing but how my magic is a sin, how every waking moment is a danger to others and asleep is a danger to myself. The Wardens - I wasn't...I wasn't there long enough to be encouraged for anything except one more body to the ranks." 

"You are uncomfortable being complimented? Dear Warden, that is needing to be remedied and I have much to help with that." The purr in his voice made Leverette cough. 

"I won't say I don't enjoy it, even, but the...the more...vulgar comments. I'm averse to their...suggestions." He winced and didn't meet Zevran's gaze. 

"The bed talk?" 

"I've never wanted to - I suppose I should say I'm afraid to - I just-"

Zevran placed a hand on his shoulder, no hesitation, and Leverette closed his mouth fast enough a tooth snagged on his lip. "You are not saying you are afraid of me?"

"Maker no. The sweaty palms, the flutterin stomach, but no fear. I thought, with my magic-"

"You are beautiful with or without magic. It does help when you can light a fire without all the needless moments of starting it."

"I...thank you. I though, you of all people, would find this part of me.."

"Undesirable?" Zevran laughed. "There is more to be desired than just what can be found under the sheets."


End file.
